Katie made sure the oars were firmly in the ring thingy, then leaned forward and dipped them into the water. It took more strength and energy than she expected to pull them forward, but she wasn’t a quitter.
“I’ve driven a Maserati. It belonged to one of my doctors.”
“You’ve mentioned doctors more than once. Care to elaborate?”
“Not really. I was a sickly kid and spent a lot of time in the hospital.” She let go of one oar for a second to touch her chest. “I had a little heart issue, but it’s all good now.” She was certain most people wouldn’t call heart failure a “little issue”. She didn’t want to focus on the past. She wanted to live her future. She looked down at the angry scar that sliced through his knee and disappeared under the camouflage print of his cut-off shorts. “What about you?”
“I’ve seen a few doctors, too.” He rubbed his knee and pulled the fabric higher to reveal the wound. “I’m still here. You’re still here.” He looked around them. The lake was dotted with fishing boats. “Stay clear of everyone else. You don’t want to piss off a bunch of old fishermen. They won’t think anything of ‘accidentally’ hooking you with their next cast.”
“I got this.”
Once the boat moved, she had it. They glided across the water. The still glasslike surface broke and rippled with their movement. Several birds swooped down to see if the couple had anything interesting to offer, and when they found nothing but two people and a plastic bag, they moved on. As she neared a boat ahead, she braked and turned right.
Bowie reached for the bag he’d packed. “Hungry?” He raised a brow. “We can free float while we eat the gourmet sandwiches I prepared.”
“Gourmet, huh?” She pulled in the oars and tucked them under the bench. “What makes them gourmet?”
Bowie laughed. “I have no idea, but it sounded good.”
“Pony up the goods, mister. I’ve been rowing, and I’m starved.”
“You’ve been rowing for five minutes.” He opened the bag and pulled out two bagged sandwiches and two bottles of water. “Shall we share both?”
She rose from her seat. The boat rocked from side to side as she made her way to the space beside him. “I like sharing with you.” She liked sharing his kisses for sure. “Most people would share a meal before they shared a kiss. We’ve done it backward.”
“I don’t know. Who doesn’t like a little appetizer first?”
She took the baggie with the bologna sandwich inside. She reached in, pulled out the two halves, and offered him one. “So I’m your amuse-bouche?”
“My what?” He took a bite of his half of the sandwich. A blob of mustard caught at the corner of his lip.
Katie couldn’t help herself. She rose up and licked it away and savored the tangy taste it left on her tongue. “An amuse-bouche is something you eat to whet your appetite. Something to amuse your taste buds until you get to the main course.”
“I’m hoping to get to the main course with you soon.” He looked at her with heat in his eyes.
“So now I’m the appetizer and the main course.”
She took a bite of her sandwich. How a bologna and mustard sandwich tasted so good, she had no idea. Maybe sharing it with Bowie made it taste better. Maybe the way he teased her made a simple sandwich decadent. Who was she kidding? There was no maybe. Everything about Bowie spoke to her.
He nuzzled his face into her neck. The scruff of a few unshaven days rubbed her skin to create a nice, warm burn. The wet of his tongue traced from her collarbone to the shell of her ear.
“You’re dessert, too.”
A slow trickle of desire oozed like warmed honey through her veins. There wasn’t a place on her body that didn’t want to be dessert for Bowie Bishop.
“We’ll see. Maybe your appetite will fade at peanut butter and jelly.” She picked up the other baggie and pulled out her half of the sandwich. “The jelly is sweet and satisfying.”
Bowie turned to face her. “I’m sure you’re sweet, too, and I guarantee when I’m done with you, you’ll be satisfied.”
Every word he said made her shiver, but one word made her heart sink to the worn wooden bottom of the boat. He said the word “done”. Which made it sound like once he had her that would be it.
Though Katie wanted to find love, she had to be realistic. Life was fleeting. Uncertain. Unyielding. Wasn’t it better to have the thing she wanted once than never at all? No one knew better than her how life could change. She looked at Bowie, who had turned to glance at the water. He also knew a person could be here today and not tomorrow.
“I’d love to be your dessert.” It was a bold statement. One she’d embrace because deep inside she knew a day with Bowie was better than any day without.
He grabbed the oars and situated them into the rings. “My turn to row. I don’t want you worn out before I get you into bed.”
“I love how you think.”
She took her seat across from him and finished her sandwich. With each pull of the oars, his muscles grew until the cotton of his shirt stretched tight over his arms and chest—parts of his body certain to be exposed to her later.
When he turned to look toward the shore, the sunlight glinted off the faded white line that bisected his cheek.
“Where did you get that scar?” She lifted her hand to her unblemished cheek.
His eyes narrowed. His jaw tightened. The tick of a tense muscle twitched. “Car accident.”
Her heart skipped a beat. By the sternness of his reply, it had to be associated with his biggest loss. “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”
They sat in silence for a long minute. He turned the boat so they faced the west side of the lake.
“We’d been together for over ten years when she died.” His voice was low and far away. “I’ve never talked about it with anyone, but I got this scar trying to save her and my mother. I saved neither.”
The air surrounding them turned heavy with regret. She wasn’t certain how to respond. “You don’t have to tell me.”
He pulled his eyes from the mountainside to look at her. “I feel you need to know. You need to understand why I can never love you. Not because you’re not lovable, but because I’m not capable of love any longer.”
When she swallowed, it was as if a boulder stuck in her throat. “I doubt you’re incapable. It’s that you’re resistant. Why wouldn't you be? Love is risky.”
He pointed from her to him. “And you’re okay with this, knowing it’ll never be more?”
Inside, she wanted to cry for herself and for him. Was she okay with never having the option of more with Bowie? Not really, but she had to be. She knew she deserved more, and so did he, but something told her he was worth the gamble. “You and I both know how fragile life is. Let’s not worry about tomorrow. Let’s live today.”
He rowed harder until they were cutting through the water like a hot knife through butter. “You make being here better.”
“Being here isn’t so bad. You might find you like it after all. Heck, you might even stay.” A girl could hope.
She finished her sandwich and watched the scenery pass as Bowie propelled them forward.
“My mom used to say, ‘Never cross the same bridge twice’. I’ve crossed this bridge before. I’m not staying.”
She tilted her head to the side and made a face. “Really? Neverisms? I hate them.”
He pulled in the oars. They coasted across the water. “What are you talking about?” He put his elbows on his knees and leaned forward with his hands clasped between his legs. “Neverisms?”
“You know. All the stuff people spout off like it’s sage advice. Things like ‘Never look a gift horse in the mouth’ or ‘Never moon a werewolf’. What the heck is a gift horse? And do werewolves exist? Wasted words packaged like wisdom.”
“Some of them are good.”
“Tell me one that’s been beneficial to you.”
He sat there. She could see the gears turning in his head, and s
he knew by the way his lips rose in the corners and the light in his eyes sparkled, he’d thought of one.
“Never say never.” He gave her a look that said, beat that.
“You just said never.” She shook her head, exasperated that he’d contradicted himself. “I’ll give you this, that’s the wisest one of them all because it leaves your options open. The one about the bridge … what if what you wanted or needed was on the other side of that bridge? Would you cross it then? If you didn’t … you’d never know.”
A breeze picked up. A man in a nearby boat hooted and hollered in celebration of his latest catch. The sun had fallen on the horizon and sat above the peak. The last remnants of snow had melted away. Bright green Aspen leaves colored the mountainside. It was spring, a time for new beginnings.
“You’re right. Neverisms are stupid,” Bowie said.
“I hate to make a blanket statement on anything, which is why ‘Never say never’ is good. There are a few others worth mentioning, like ‘Never pass up a chance to say I love you’ or ‘Never lose a chance to say a kind word’ or ‘Never let a man rowing your boat get away without a kiss’.” She launched herself at him, knocking him over.
For the next twenty minutes, they lay on the floor of the boat and made out like teenagers. It wasn’t until a brave bird landed and pecked at the empty sandwich bags that they came up for air.
The sun barely peeked above the mountain, which meant in no time it would be dark. “We should get back.” He turned the boat around and moved toward shore. “Let’s go home and get changed and meet back at the bar for a drink tonight.”
“Is that all you want? A drink?”
“I never said that was all I wanted.”
She licked his taste from her lips. “You sure like that word ‘never’.”
“I do,” he said with confidence. “Here’s one more for you to think about. I’m going to do things to you tonight that will make certain you never forget me.”
Playfulness looked good on him. It was nice to see him relax and enjoy the moment. So when he flashed his white teeth in an open-mouthed smile, something inside her melted like chocolate on a sun-warmed sidewalk. She thought of a “never” of her own. Never had she wanted a man as much as she wanted Bowie.
Chapter Eleven
The twenty minutes it took to get to the bakery were glorious. Her arms wrapped around his waist. Her head pressed against his back. Him cradled between her open thighs. He hated dropping her off.
Once she walked inside, he took off for home with a promise of later. Her last words to him were, “Don’t shave.”
A girl like Katie should be with a banker or businessman. What she wanted with someone like him was beyond imagination. He had nothing to offer her. Seeing as she was a grown-up, he decided not to question it.
They’d talked about a lot of things on the boat when they weren’t kissing. How she’d worked as a data entry clerk for her dad’s insurance company. How her parents didn’t give her much space to make choices, and why coming to Aspen Cove had been the scariest and best decision of her life.
He’d shared some things about himself. Never before had he offered information about that day. His heart and lungs ceased when he looked across the lake to where it all happened, then he looked at Katie and everything loosened up. She was human Xanax.
Just as he arrived at home, his father walked out the door. The smell of aftershave hit Bowie head on. “Got another date?” He couldn’t fault him for wanting to share his life with someone.
Ben shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know what’s wrong with Maisey, but she’s good to me.” He pulled out his wallet and looked through his bills.
“You got enough money?” It was funny how the tables had turned. Once upon a time, it was Bowie standing in front of his father with his empty wallet open.
“I do. Enough for a dinner and a movie.” His dad put his wallet away. His head dropped to look at the ground. “I may not be home tonight. Will that bother you?”
Bowie stood a foot taller than his dad and leaned down to look him in the eye. “I want you to be happy. Does Maisey make you happy?”
Ben’s head rose. “I’m happier than I’ve been in a while. You’re home. Your brother’s got a good woman. I’ve got a job I like. Katie is special.” He looked at the motorcycle sitting in the driveway. “Was that her I saw on the back of your bike?”
His dad didn’t miss a thing. “I took her for a ride to the lake. She wanted to row a boat.”
Ben laughed. “‘Special’ might not be the right word. She’s quirky, but she’s cute. Don’t hurt her, Bowie. I have a feeling she’s been through a lot already.”
Bowie looked past his dad to B’s Bed and Breakfast. “Haven’t we all?”
Ben pulled his son in for a hug. He’d been uncharacteristically touchy-feely since Bowie had come home. “I love you, son. It’s time for you to be happy, too.”
Bowie nodded and walked backwards toward the house. “Have a good time. Glove it before you love it.”
“Get in the house,” his father said with mock sternness.
Bowie headed straight for the shower. When he emerged smelling like soap instead of sweat, he ran into Cannon.
“Coming to the bar tonight?” his brother asked.
“I’ll be there. I’m meeting Katie for a drink.”
“Is that right? You got the hots for her?”
“She’s hot, but it’s not like that.” It was exactly like that, but he wasn’t fessing up. “We’re friends. That’s all.”
Cannon stood in his doorway, buttoning his shirt. “Don’t mess with her. I don’t want Sage mad at me because you screwed with her best friend.”
Bowie threw his hands in the air. “Why does everyone think I’m going to hurt her?”
Cannon shrugged. “Because you might. But don’t. I’ll kick your ass if you do.” He brushed past Bowie. “I’m running late. I’ll see you there.”
He heard the front door close before he entered his room. While everyone around him had changed, his space had remained the same. Stuck in a time warp. The dresser was covered with memories, from the wheat back pennies Brandy gave him to movie stubs and brochures for wedding venues.
He picked up the advertisement for a place called The Chateau. It sat on the edge of Silver Springs. A cross between a dude ranch and a spa, it had been Brandy’s top choice.
He picked up the trash can and with one swipe threw it all away. There was no use holding on to the past. It never made him feel good about the future. There was another “never” for him to consider.
Could he have a future? Would his heart ever soften enough to let someone in? He couldn’t see a time when that would happen. His future didn’t hold a place for love, but it had a slice of time where he could hold Katie.
He watched the door for over thirty minutes, but she didn’t show.
“Got a date?” Doc asked from the stool next to him. “You’re watching that door like you’re waiting for someone.”
“No, not a date, but Katie’s coming by to have a drink with me.”
Doc folded his napkin into a grid of nine. He was on his second beer, which meant he’d be playing tic-tac-toe with Cannon to see who paid.
“Back in my day, if a girl said she’d meet you for a drink, that was considered a date. You youngsters are confusing.”
“I’m not the dating type.” He pulled the beer to his lips and took a drink. The cold carbonation helped tamp down the fire he’d built inside. Just thinking about Katie made him smolder.
“She’s a good girl, that Katie. She’s—”
Having heard it before, Bowie finished the sentence. “I know, she’s special, and if I hurt her, you’re going to kick my ass.” He tipped back his frosted mug and took another drink.
Doc looked at him, perplexed. “I was going to say she’s a blessing to Aspen Cove, but you’re right, she is special. I’m too old to kick your ass, but there’s a dozen people around her who will if you hur
t her.” He laughed and finished his beer.
Cannon walked over and started with an O in the center of the grid. Bowie ignored the rest of the game and kept his eyes on the door. A few minutes later, she walked inside. Dressed in tight blue jeans and those damn red boots, every eye in the place was on her.
For a Sunday, the bar was full, but it was tourist season and the people of Aspen Cove financed their entire year on the months of May through October.
He hadn’t noticed before, but the idiots from earlier were playing pool. The stupid blonde guy whispered to his friends until they all turned to stare at Katie.
She paid no attention to them. Her eyes were on him, and he’d be damned if that didn’t feel good. He was broken and damaged and scarred and ugly, but she looked at him like he was a prince.
“Hey,” she said. She climbed onto the seat next to him and smiled. “You beat me here.”
He turned to her. She was stunning. Her hair was the lightest blonde, it looked white under the lights. Her skin flawless. Her lips plump and kissable. She smelled like strawberries and honey. He wanted to pull her into his arms and taste that sweet mouth of hers, but that would be like claiming her as his own. She wasn’t his. He wasn’t hers.
“You want the usual?” Cannon asked.
It bit at him that his brother knew what her usual was. Bowie knew very little about this woman except she was beautiful and kind. She had been sickly as a child. Had overprotective parents and few life experiences. He knew her skin felt like satin. Her mouth tasted like honey. Her desire for him was as strong as his for her. She had curves that fit against him like a laser-cut puzzle piece. Her touch calmed him. That southern twang in her voice was like music to his ears.
Cannon placed a soda on the counter in front of her.
“Soda?” Bowie asked. She looked more like a wine girl; then again, who knew? He didn’t really know her.
“I love the bubbly water.”
She was a puzzle. “So let’s play a game.”
She clapped her hands. “I love games.” She looked past him to where Cannon stood losing a game of tic-tac-toe. “You want to play that?”
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